Gui Zhen
by Judiff
Summary: Jane is new out here, and doesn't want to keep up appearances. Charon isn't, and he always has. Not your typical Charon/FLW romance. M for violence, language, and sexual themes/content later on.
1. Chapter 1

My first Fallout 3 fic. Review, and don't be afraid to be harsh!

* * *

Jane wasn't the type to try and keep up appearances. She never had been. Back in the vault, her father had taught her to be herself, while the others, the teachers, the overseer, had taught her to fit in. Conformity. Don't stand out. Do what you're told. Listen to your elders. Stand up straight. Don't put your elbows on the table.

Jane, for the most part, had blocked them out. She didn't care what they thought. Why should she? They had been nothing but trouble for her. And the ones who cared about her, who loved her…well, they saw past her flaws and her not-so-accepted strengths. The way she slouched when she sat. The way she was constantly over-sleeping. The way she talked with her mouth full. The way she could aim at and shoot a radroach's head with deadly precision. The way she could win in a cursing contest and _almost_ win in afist fight with Butch.

But there had only been a few people in the vault who she had cared about and who had cared back. Her dad being the first. He was the best dad _ever_, Jane was sure of that. It sounded childish, but it was the truth. The other fathers in the vault were second-rate at best. But her dad had always been there for her. He had always hugged her when she felt scared or sad, and he had always given her good advice when she felt lost or needed guidance. He had _been there for her._ Which she had always taken for granted.

There was Amata, too. She was bossy, but she had a good head on her shoulders. She had a sharp tongue and a quick wit. Despite the fact that her father, the overseer, was a complete asshole, she had been a good friend. Jonas, too. He was much older than her, but he always talked to her like an adult. When she had actually become one, around 17, he had seemed happier than anyone. He had hugged her and told her how proud he was of her. Jane had blushed and shrugged it off.

But out here it was different. Much different.

Jane cocked her shotgun and sent another blast towards the Super Mutant charging towards her. The blast hit him square in the face and he fell backwards with a grunt. Dogmeat fell back to her side and Jane took this as a hint. She quickly dodged out of the metro and made her way up the stairs and into the dimming light of the wasteland. She glanced around and sighed. Fucking finally, she had found the Mall. If it weren't for her Pipboy, she'd be royally screwed. Her leg felt broken as she limped along. Her head was killing her and she'd like nothing more than to sleep for a few hours. Maybe a few days.

She was about to put her gun away when there was a growling behind her. Jane turned and aimed a blast at a vicious looking dog, but Dogmeat got there first and tore the other canine to shreds. Jane praised him and they made their way deeper into the mall.

"Watch yourself, outsider." A Brotherhood of Steel Knight nodded at her as she passed. Good. At least there was some help out here. Jane glanced up at the sky. The sun was fading fast. Up head, she saw someone else standing along the ruined sidewalk. They were shorter than Jane, and as she got closer, she saw that their skin was ruined and flaking off.

"What's up, tourist?" The familiar sound of a ghoul voice echoed across the feet between them. She lit a cigarette.

"I'm not a tourist." Jane frowned.

The ghoul laughed. "Here you are, taking in the sights of our nation's great capitol, wandering the mall. You're a tourist."

Jane blinked. "Fair enough. Why are you just standing out here?" Although she did notice the woman had a gun on her back and looked like she could handle herself.

"I'm sentry to Underworld. My name's Willow." The shorter woman took a drag on her smoke. "You lookin' for a place to stay the night?"

"Yeah, actually. It gets freaking dark out here." Jane grinned.

"Well, the ghouls inside usually aren't too keen on humans, but they'll sell to you as long as your caps are good and you aren't a ghoul hater."

Jane gave her thanks and made her way up the steps to the museum. It wasn't the museum she was looking for, The Museum of Technology, but she needed a place to sleep before continuing on this crazy quest for Three Dog. She had been walking all day, and she surely she would have gone crazy by now if it hadn't been for Dogmeat.

Jane walked through the large skull and instantly knew she was in Ghoul City. They were all over the place. Instantly she was greeted by a man in a blue jumpsuit. He told her basically the same thing she had heard in every town she had been to. Shut up, keep her head down, cause trouble and she was dead. He informed her that most ghouls didn't like humans. The thought made her kind of sick. So many problems out there and most ghouls didn't like humans and vice versa. It was sad.

"Yes, sir." She replied. "I'm just looking for a place to spend the night. I'm not looking for trouble."

"Fair enough." The man nodded. "I'm Winthrop. I fix everything up around here. Speaking of which, I could use a hand with something..."

A few minutes later, Jane had managed to get enough ghouls to talk to her to know there was a shop run by a girl named Tulip, a hotel and eatery called Carol's Place (Carol…that sounded familiar) and a bar called The Ninth Circle.

Jane entered the shop first and spoke quickly with Tulip. She stocked up on Stimpacks and sold all the junk she had stuffed inside her bag. Dogmeat sat patiently by her heels.

"So what do you do with the money you make down here if you never leave?"

"Well," Tulip pulled out a box of chems for Jane to look through, "We can give them to Quinn so he can get stuff for us when he goes out, or we spend them at Carol's. Or Ninth Circle. But I don't like it there."

Jane set aside a few syringes of Med-X. "Why not?"

"Ahzrukhal- that's the guy who owns the place- he's…" Tulip glanced around and leaned forward, speaking in hushed tones, "He's not very nice. Slimy, if you ask me."

"Slimy bartender, eh?" Jane laid down caps for the Med-X and Stimpacks she had picked out. She recalled Moriarty in Megaton. "Doesn't sound out of the ordinary."

"I guess not." Tulip put away the box of chems. "But he's always trying to make people buy more booze, more chems. He wants them to get addicted so they'll buy more. Half the people in Underworld are addicted to something because of him."

Jane frowned. "That's not good. Hasn't anyone tried to put him in his place?"

"We can't." Tulip shrugged. "He has this bodyguard that always hangs out in the bar, Charon. Scary guy. Does anything Ahzrukhal says."

Jane wrapped up her conversation with Tulip. After selling everything, even after buying Stimpacks and ammo, she had around 1500 caps left. She limped upstairs and passed two double doors. A sign next to it said "The 9th Circle". The number had been painted on with red paint, and dripped down to looked somewhat like blood. She could hear talking and the familiar sound of the radio playing. She wandered past and around the rotunda until she came to "Carol's Place".

Jane stepped in and was greeted by a short ghoul with fragments of blonde-green hair.

"What is it- OH! Oh, hello. My goodness, you must think me so rude. This is Carol's Place, I'm Carol. It's not often we get a pretty young smoothskin such as yourself in here."

"Hi, Carol." Jane leaned on the counter. "You know, your name sounds _so _familiar. You wouldn't happen to know a Gob, would you?"

"Gob? Why yes, yes, of course!" Carol hastily explained that Gob was her adopted son, and he had worked with her for quite some time before heading off into the wastes to find a new life.

Jane was extremely hesitant to tell Gob's mother that he had been a slave and bought off by Moriarty and was currently working off a debt for the Irishman.

"He's working in a bar in Megaton." Jane smiled. She felt bad for lying, but it was at least a half-truth. Carol exclaimed her happiness for him, and then quickly told Jane that Gob shouldn't risk his neck traveling back. Jane felt glad that there was still love out there. Jane and Carol talked for a while longer. Jane introduced herself and how she knew Gob. It was no secret she was looking for her father, so she told her. She then bought a room for herself and Dogmeat.

Jane opened the stall door into her little room and quickly set her belongings down. She collapsed on the bed, tucking her gun underneath the sheets. She could do with a little sleep before checking out the rest of Underworld.

Indeed, it was different out here. She had never been taught about ghouls in school, how they were hideous, yet there were the ones like Carol whose inner beauty shone through their rotted skin. In the vault, they never told her about shooting a gun into another human's brain. The first time Jane had done so, in the abandoned and collapsing Springvale School, she had cried, then doubled over and vomited. The sound of her retching had attracted more raiders, and she had been forced to kill the rest.

Only after she had cleaned the place out did she have time to cry. She went back to Megaton and bought a room at Moriarty's. She had told Nova to leave her alone and she threw up and cried silently for what seemed like hours. She could still distinctly remember the sound of her bullet going into that first raider's gut. He had doubled over and screamed. She had shot him again, in the chest, and it made a hollow sounding _thunk_. Then he had fell and his skull had cracked hard against the marble floor. That's when she had lost her lunch.

Jane rolled onto her side to look at the wall. Dogmeat curled up at her feet. Never, back in the vault, had she been taught that there was life _outside _the vault. She knew there had been a war. It's like everyone assumed that the outside world was dead. No one was alive, why would they be after nuclear holocaust?

She had asked her father about it. What it was like. Who was out there, if they could ever go there. He had always said "We're born in the vault. We die in the vault." It had always disappointed Jane. She was anxious to go out there. To see. With only three friends, Jonas, Amata, and her father…well, it seemed dull. She wanted more. She wanted adventure.

But now she had no friends. Jonas was dead. Amata would never come with her, she was too stuck on the vault. But her father was out there, somewhere, and Jane _had _to find him. He…he was all she had left.

And Jane fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

End chapter 1. "Gui Zhen" is "Ghost Town" in Chinese. Seemed only fitting.

I'm nervous that maybe Jane will turn into a Mary Sue, so if anyone sees any Mary-Suish tendencies creeping in, be sure to let me know and I'll try to rewrite the chapter with less "Derp I'm perfect", although in game, your character pretty much _is _perfect if you distribute your stats and perks around well enough. But I want this story to be realistic. Obviously, in real life, if you shoot someone in the arm with a .32 pistol, their arm won't fly off in a bloody arch of death and they won't just drop dead afterwards. And if you shoot a Raider in the face, he's probably down for the count unless you just barely grazed his scalp or something. "Raider face Crippled" _my ass._

Also I took some liberties with the conversations you have with people, as you can see with Willow and Tulip. I wish you could ask them more than what you can, and I wish you could make more comments on what they say to you. Like when Tulip says "Or 9th circle, but I don't like it there", you can't even ask her why! So I kind of changed things up a bit. I didn't want to be copying each conversation word for word, anyway, because that's just plain lazy.

Anyway, this story will switch between Jane and Charon's points of views, but will mostly stay in Charon's once he gets around to being in the story. Again, don't be afraid to be harsh in your review. :)


	2. Chapter 2:The Ninth Circle

The couple wandered into the bar around six o'clock. They came in often, Charon had noticed, always together, but they didn't seem to live together. They acted like they were catching up with each other as they spoke. Their conversations were amusing, because the girl always wanted to gossip and the man never seemed interested. Charon was waiting for him to snap.

"Did you hear about that smoothskin?" They sat at the table near the bar, and Ahzrukhal had given them both shots of scotch on the rocks. The bartender instantly perked up at the word "smoothskin" and the girl's partner seemed to deflate.

"You mean the one they're constantly talking about on the radio?" He asked hopefully. Charon crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall as he listened in. It was true, Three God or whatever his name was had been talking constantly about a man and a girl who had just recently come out of a vault. Apparently the girl had defused that old bomb in Megaton and helped someone write a book. The DJ wouldn't shut up about it.

"No, no." The female ghoul threw back her drink. "There's a smoothskin here! In Underworld!"

It was a bit of a surprise every time a human came down into Underworld. Everyone acted like it was a huge deal, and they were either extremely rude or extremely interested in them. Charon didn't care one way or another. He didn't hate smoothskins, but he didn't necessarily _like_ them, either.

The way Charon saw it; there were two types of humans. There were the ones who came into the bar with a gun holstered on their back or on their hip, and they looked around as if to say _"I own this place."_ They never asked for people's names, they just called them "zombie" or "ghoul". No manners. No grace. They were usually filthy and wanted to sit and bitch about their problems in the wasteland. Ahzrukhal was only too happy to listen, coaxing them into buying more and more booze and chems.

Then there were the others. They would come in, dirty, wearing rags. Charon suspected they were escaped slaves or wastelanders with nowhere to go. They'd sit and cry and moan about how tough their lives were. Charon had a newsflash for them. _Everyone's_ life was tough out here. There was practically no food, and even less shelter, and almost no one had friends. You had to look out for yourself out here, or die. These types were typically women and Ahzrukhal just_ loved_ smoothskin women.

"Is that so?" The man grimaced. "Not often we get them down here."

She agreed. "Yeah! Well, this one was wearing armor like some of the others. Wasn't a guy this time, though. Usually its men who come in here wearing armor. But it was a girl last night. Pretty little thing. I saw her come in. She talked to Winthrop, of course, and gave him scrap metal after he mentioned it. And then she went and talked to Tulip for about an hour, and…"

"Tulip's a weirdo." The male grunted. Charon had never talked to the sales keeper, but people often said this or something similar when they were in the bar.

The girl continued on for a while about the girl that had come in, and Charon completely lost interest. Most women who wore armor were either raiders or wanderers, and they were usually grizzled and jaded, and if they came into the bar, they'd want a drink and they probably wouldn't talk. It was the naïve ones who talked their mouths off, and most naïve ones didn't have armor on. Then again, this one had talked to Tulip and _no one _talked to Tulip.

Charon glanced at his employer. Ahzrukhal was listening intently to the conversation in front of him. Ahzrukhal loved female smoothskins because if they got drunk enough, they'd fuck him. Sometimes. It had happened at least three times that Charon could count. They would get high or drunk or both and then they'd follow Ahzrukhal off to bedroom and then they'd wake up the next morning screaming hysterically. Two out of these three times Charon had to drag the women out of Underworld. The other had just exited the bar, looking humiliated. She had never returned.

Both all those instances were years ago. The last woman to come in had been an ex-raider. She wasn't very pretty. She drank two bottles of beer and then left. No talking. No problems. This was the type of smoothskin Charon liked. Quiet. Minded their own business. Hell, that was the kind of _person_ Charon liked. Ghoul or human. But they were few and far between.

That's why Charon wasn't very surprised when the smoothskin came into the bar.

It was the next night when she finally did come in. All of the night before and all that day people had sat in the bar and talked loudly amongst themselves about the smoothskin. Charon got sick of it after a while and had tuned them out. He'd rather listen to GNR than this shit, so he paid attention to the radio instead. Three God (Dog? Whatever.) was still talking about "1-Oh-1", but hearing about her was better than hearing about the girl who had wandered into Underworld.

The disc jockey was talking about raiders around Evergreen Mills when the door opened. Charon looked over. Almost no one used the doors in the front of the bar. Most people preferred the back doors because it was so close to Carol's, where a lot of them slept for the night. And sure enough, instead of a ghoul, the smoothskin had stepped inside.

She took two steps in and stopped. A dog was hot on her heels, a medium-sized one with black and white fur. She looked around the bar as if she had never seen one in her life. She was short, with platinum blonde hair. Her skin was tanned in patches and sunburned in others. She wore the armor of a raider, leather, with spiked shoulder pads and thigh-high combat boots. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into her back pocket.

Then she looked at Charon. Her eyes were wide and almost child-like, a dark brown. She took a step forward and all Charon could think was _"Oh, god__**dammit**__."_

"Hi." She held out her hand for him. "I-"

"Talk to Ahzrukhal." Charon interrupted. He was not to speak to anyone, except to tell them to turn their attention to his employer. It was, possibly, the only good order Ahzrukhal had ever given him. Charon did not enjoy talking.

The girl faltered only in the slightly. She blinked, her face falling for a moment. Then she held out her hand more firmly, determination in her eyes. "I just-"

"Talk To Ahzrukhal." Charon repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

She swallowed hard, her hand falling to her side. "But, I…"

"I don't care. Talk. To. Ahzrukhal."

She glanced at the bartender, then back at Charon, then at her dog, then at Charon again. She opened her mouth to say something again, but a glare from Charon shut her up. Looking defeated, she went over to the bar and sat in a stool. She put her chin on her fist and sighed heavily. Her dog sat at her heels and Ahzrukhal looked delighted.

The bartender began to speak loudly, telling the girl that this was the Ninth Circle! He was Ahzrukhal! It was a load of shit. He said it every time someone new came into the room.

"So, my pretty little smoothskin, what can I get you?" Ahzrukhal leaned one elbow on the counter. Charon felt dirty _for_ him. Didn't the bartender have boundaries? But Charon knew the answer was no.

"Just some scotch, I guess." The girl muttered. Ahzrukhal instantly set down the bottle and shot glass in front of her. She drank in silence and Charon felt better. Ahzrukhal, however, was pounding her with questions.

"So, what're you doing in Underworld?" God, couldn't he just leave her be?

"Just passing through." She said shortly.

"Where ya headed?" Ahzrukhal was not going to give up.

"The Museum of Technology." She fiddled with her glove. Charon finally noticed that she didn't have a gun strapped to her person. She did, however, have a combat knife in a sheath around her thigh.

"What's there that's of any interest to such a pretty young lady such as you? There's nothing out there but Super Mutants and Raiders!"

"I'm…" She threw back her drink. "There's something there that I need."

"Oh? What's that?"

If he were that girl, Charon would have punched Ahzrukhal in the face by now. Wasn't it her business? But he guessed that some people weren't like that. Some people would tell anyone anything. Some people would seek conversation; they'd want Ahzrukhal to ask them all these questions just so they could complain. Charon never understood these people.

The girl was silent. She sipped on her scotch and stared at the bar. Ahzrukhal raised a half-gone eyebrow and asked her again.

"What's at the Museum that you need?"

"What's with the guy in the corner?"

Charon leaned against the wall and inwardly smirked. Maybe he liked this girl.


	3. Chapter 3: The Switching of Hands

Charon might have liked the girl, but he didn't like the way in which this conversation was heading. She had asked about him, but Ahzrukhal had given his explanation about how Charon was a very _loyal_ employee, and the way he said it just sickened Charon. Twenty years, now, he had been standing in this bar, and he was so sick of it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Twenty years he had watched that bar, twenty years he had stood in this corner, and twenty years he had listened to Ahzrukhal spout out his bullshit.

"What do you mean, a _very_ _loyal_ employee?" Was she stupid?

"You see…" Charon didn't feel like listening to Ahzrukhal's bullshit about the contract. Besides, he knew all about it. How could he not? That goddamn piece of paper was his entire life. Always had been. On it was written every law he had to obey, every person who had owned him. He was every word written on it. Every name scrawled on the back was a part of him.

"So he's your slave?" That was one reaction Charon actually hadn't heard before. It was true, he was, but most people just took it for what Ahzrukhal made it out to be: a job. But this was no job.

"Ma'am, you insult me." Ahzrukhal growled. "Slavery is an abomination. I would never condone it. Charon is held by contract. Nothing more."

"So," The girl was frowning and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "He's your slave."

Charon felt like laughing. He did like this girl. And it was true, he was practically a slave. To this, Ahzrukhal said nothing. The blonde threw back the rest of her drink.

"How much for that contract?" She leaned on the counter.

"It isn't for sale." Ahzrukhal didn't sound happy. That slave comment had put him in a foul mood.

"Don't give me that shit." She stood up, tucking a lock of hair behind a sunburned ear. "One thousand caps."

"Are you kidding?" Ahzrukhal scoffed. "Make a serious offer."

The girl paused and thought for a moment. "Fifteen hundred." The dog at her feet climbed up and sneered at Ahzrukhal. The bartender stared at it, then at the girl.

"Two thousand." He said quietly. Charon was surprised. Never before had Ahzrukhal put down an amount for his contract. A few people had asked after him, most of them slavers, a few working men, one a heavy set woman wearing nice clothes. But never had Ahzrukhal given them a price, or even mentioned selling the contract.

The girl frowned. "That's fucking robbery."

"Two thousand. Take it or leave it."

"Fine, I'll be back." The girl turned and made for the doors. She glanced at Charon, her eyes still just as wide and curious as they were before. She left the Ninth Circle with her dog at her heels. Ahzrukhal was frowning, chin in hand. He didn't even look at Charon.

Charon didn't really know what to think at this point. Was she really going to buy his contract? Was she bluffing? Would she even come back to the bar? If she _did_ come back, however… If she _did_ purchase his contract…then he'd no longer be working for Ahzrukhal.

The thought made him excited, but at the same time, nervous and slightly angry. He'd be working for a smoothskin. A human. And a human girl, no less. She'd probably want him to do all the dirty work, she'd want him to shoot and kill everything while she hid behind him. He had worked for a woman once, and she had done that. It had been annoying. But it had to be better than standing here in the bar all day and all night.

An hour passed. Then two, then three. Charon leaned against the wall and barely concealed a smirk. He knew it. She couldn't afford it, so she'd left. She'd probably never come back to Underworld.

Closing time. Ahzrukhal was getting ready to go to bed, locking up the fridge and shooing out customers. Then the door burst open. The girl stepped in, her hair frazzled and multiple scrapes and bruises on her face and neck. She was dirtier than before, and now, a large rifle hung from her back. On her side, a magnum. Pushed back on her head, goggles. Hanging out of her pocket were her sunglasses, now cracked down one side. The dog was behind her, limping slightly.

She went to bar and slammed down a small pouch. It landed with a heavy _clank_ and she held her hand out.

"Two thousand caps. I'll take that contract now."

Ahzrukhal paused. He set down the glass he was cleaning and stared at her for a moment. Then he smiled.

"Yes. Yes, I think that will work. I'll give you the pleasure of informing Charon yourself."

The contract was pulled out; the caps were slid over the counter. The girl took the slip of paper and Ahzrukhal handed her a pen. She scratched out the bartender's name and added her own to the list of owners. The people remaining in the bar stood, dumbfounded, staring either drunkenly or curiously. The wastelander then stood up straight and turned to look at Charon. He straightened up off the wall himself, watching her.

She came over to him slowly, and then held up his contract.

"Hi." She smiled nervously, "I guess this makes me your new employer."

"You bought my contract off of Ahzrukhal." It was a statement, not a question. The girl nodded. "This is good to know. Please wait here." Charon edged past her and she looked on curiously.

"Charon," Ahzrukhal smiled slyly as he approached the bar, "That's right. This girl is your new employer. Come to say goodbye?"

"You could say that." Charon pulled out his shotgun and shot it before Ahzrukhal could react. Blood splattered the wall safe and refrigerator as Ahzrukhal's body collapsed to the floor. One of the bar patrons screamed, a few more ran out. But why should he care?

Charon reached down and snatched the bag of caps off of the body. He turned to the blonde and held out the bag.

"Alright. Let's go."

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay between updates, I am super busy with work and college classes and friends and actually playing Fallout and etc, etc, etc. Hopefully now that it is a weekend I can get a few more chapters written and up by Sunday! Feel free to point out any grammatical or technical errors; I write these late at night when I'm tired and easily miss things. Thanks!

Also, these first few chapters will be ZOMG SUPER FAST PACED but it should slow down after a while. And again, I take liberties with the dialog and will eventually take liberties with some of the quests. Sue me.


	4. Chapter 4: A Rocket!

Jane couldn't stop staring at the brains splattered on the bag Charon was holding out to her. She grimaced and took it gingerly, wiping it on her pants. Dogmeat was looking hungrily at the body of Ahzrukhal and she decided they should probably get out of here.

"What…what the fuck was that?" She breathed as she looked at the other people in the bar. They were talking excitedly and loudly and nervously, and some were scared and others looked pleased.

"Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard." Charon looked completely nonplussed. "While I was under his employ, I could do nothing. Now that the contract has passed hands, I was free to rid the world of that rat. Now I serve you, for good or ill."

Jane looked a moment longer at the body of Ahzrukhal, then turned on her heels and headed for the door. "O-okay." She muttered, banging the doors open and walking down the stairs. She could hear Charon behind her, and it kind of unnerved her. Would he shoot her in the face if she did something he didn't agree with? Or would he wait until she had given his contract away? The thought was scary.

But she had her caps back. And she had Charon. Maybe this was a win-win. Ahzrukhal _was_ pretty slimy, after all. Jane made her way to Underworld Outfitters, catching Tulip just before she closed for the night.

"Oh, you're back!" Tulip smiled. "Wow. You're…you're really back." She glanced behind her. "And…and Charon is with you. Why…?"

"I bought his contract." Jane explained quickly. "Look, I need those Stimpacks I sold you back. And the ammo."

"Oh… sure!" Tulip lead her back inside and pulled out a small box full of all the things Jane had sold to her just a few minutes ago. Jane also traded her cracked sunglasses for another pair of goggles. She could always use the spare parts.

"Do you want anything, Charon?" Jane turned to the ghoul, who was standing behind her and watching the door. As she spoke, he turned and glanced at her, then back to the door. Then he did a double take. His milky blue eyes stared at her. She shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"Anything? Ammo? Stimpacks? Hell, some Sugar Bombs or something?" She raised her eyebrow. Then he shook his head and continued to look out the door. "Oh. Well, okay. What are you using? A shotgun? Yeah, Tulip, go ahead and give me some shells while you're at it."

The two women quickly handed each other supplies and caps, and then Jane was leading Dogmeat and Charon outside the museum. She paused once they were in the lobby. She owed him something, at least. But she didn't know what to tell him without sounding like a stuck up bitch. Well, the basics would have to do.

Charon stopped as the girl paused in front of him. She punched the palm of her hand softly, biting her lip. What the hell was she doing? Then she whipped around to face him, her face brighter than ever. She held her hand out to him.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Jane Green." She smiled. Charon looked down at her hand, then up at her curious face. When she realized he wasn't going to shake her hand, she pulled it away and scratched the back of her neck.

"Oh. Okay. That's fine. So! Charon! Is…is that your real name?" He nodded. She glanced around the room. "I see! That's a good name, then." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I..um…this is Dogmeat!" She patted her dog's head and he wagged his tail happily. "He's my…well, he's my…er, dog." Was she jetting or something?

Jane paused for a second, seemingly out of things to say. Thank god. Then she rocked back and forth on her heels. "So," She seemed slightly calmer now, "I need to go to the Museum of Technology. That's right across the way from here, right?" He nodded. He knew where the Museum was. "We're looking for this," She held out her arm. On her left wrist was a small computer with a gritty screen. It showed a blurry picture of some type of machine or spacecraft, Charon wasn't really sure. "We need that dish that's on it." She explained, "And then we need to take it to the Washington Monument! Sound good?" Again, Charon nodded. "Great! Let's get going!"

As they walked out into the late evening air, Jane pulled on her motorcycle goggles and pulled her sniper rifle off her back. "I hadn't realized it was as late as it is." She muttered. She glanced at Charon. "Oh well. Maybe the Muties won't see us in the dark." She started out and Charon followed. He kept his distance behind her, watching her back.

She broke into a jog, waving to Willow as she made her way into the street. Charon glanced around. Empty, rubbish-filled street to the left, Brotherhood of Steel to the right. So far, so good. Jane seemed to have laid her eyes on a pathway over the Super Mutant-filled trenches of the Mall. Her jog became a run and Charon was surprised at how fast her short little legs carried her. The dog bounded ahead of her to scout the area.

They were almost to the other side of the street when there came a shrill yelp from the dog.

"**Dogmeat!"** Jane broke into a sprint and followed the sound of the barking….straight into the trenches.

"_Well, fuck,"_ Charon thought to him. Was the dog really worth getting them killed? These pits were full to the brim with Super Mutants of all kinds. He'd soon be pieces of meat in a gore bag.

Jane leapt down into a hole and rounded a corner. Soon there was a shout of "_**Stupid lady!**_" and the sound of an assault rifle. Charon found Jane firing off multiple rounds into the monster's face, where it fell to side with a groan. He was pleasantly surprised. At least she could hold her own.

But the sound of the mutant's death had attracted his friends. Charon could hear them from a mile away.

The girl made sure the dog was okay, and then she turned to Charon. "Uh…run?"

Before he had time to answer, a super mutant was yelling behind him and Jane was running through the makeshift alleyways. Charon turned and fired a shot into the small group of green beasts behind them. There was more shouting from them as one of their kind fell to the ground.

"Oops, oops, oops!" Jane was saying up ahead as she scrambled up some steps back onto the street level. Charon followed her as she ducked into a building. They had no time to rest as there were more mutants inside. The crowd was considerably smaller than the last, however, and soon Jane and Charon were alone to breathe.

"Sorry! Sorry about that." Jane leaned against a nearby counter. "But at least we're here now!"

Charon glanced around. There was a wrecked machine of some kind nearby, with an information sign next to explaining all about how it was the first 'airplane' ever made. Jane sighed and began to look around, pulling things out of cabinets and drawers.

"Anyway, that thing I'm looking for is called a…a…lunar…something or other. I'd like to not wander around the entire museum to find it, but I guess if we have to, we have to." She went behind the counters and Charon followed. She picked up a StealthBoy off a nearby stand and pocketed it, but found nothing else particularly useful.

After Jane had finished looting, Charon followed her upstairs. They came across some kind of walk-through feature of a vault and Jane stood in the fake entrance, looking on as it lit up and a voice came over the speakers.

Charon stared at her. She was listening to the man's voice and frowning. Before it finished, she walked through. Every few steps, the hallway would buzz to life. Jane was careful to avoid a skeleton on the floor as they continued on.

"Life underground got you down? Never fear! Vault-Tec…"

"I grew up in a vault, ya know."

Charon's eyes fell on Jane as they walked. She nodded, looking less than impressed. "Yeah. It wasn't so great. I like it out here in the Wasteland better. Even though there's Raiders. And Slavers. And Super Mutants. And Feral ghouls. I've been wondering, you know, do ghouls mind killing feral ghouls? Do you, Charon?"

He stared at her and shook his head as she looked over her shoulder at him. She went on.

"All we had down in the vault was Radroaches. Well, and there was this gang called the Tunnel Snakes, but they weren't really a problem, I guess, just a nuisance." She fell silent and Charon thanked whatever god was out there.

They exited the vault tour and they entered through a thick set of double doors.

"This looks promising." Jane wandered off to the left and Charon was forced to follow. After a quick pause at a display for something called a Vertibird, they continued on.

"Look, a rocket!" Jane exclaimed loudly as she pushed open a destroyed door.

"_Time to die!" _A shout came from overhead and Jane squealed in surprise as a bullet whizzed by her head. Charon sighed as he took aim at the mutant and fired. He could hear Jane doing the same and Dogmeat was biting into something. Jane began cursing very loudly and she scrambled up some stairs to take better aim.

"Sorry!" Jane joined him half-way after the mutants were dead. "I got a little excited."

Charon felt his trigger finger itching. He could really go for a bullet in Jane's head right now. She was loud, obnoxious, and stupid. Nothing at all like his first impression of her back in Ninth Circle.

At least she could use a gun.

* * *

Not pleased with this chapter, but I figured I'd go ahead and upload it since you guys have been waiting so long.

Thanks to everyone that's reviewed or added this to their watch list or favorites! You guys are amazing, and are what keep me going. Please keep reviewing and pointing out any flaws I've made, because I'm sure there are quite a few.

I've also been playing Halo: Reach, and I'll probably have a fic for it up soon if you're into that stuff. YAY


	5. Chapter 5: Smilin' Jane

Eventually, they found their way downstairs, and into the room that held the dish. Jane quickly detached it and tucked it under her arm. She turned to Charon, smiling again, and he glowered as she led the way outside of the museum. Night had completely fallen on the Wasteland, and in the distance there was gunfire and loud shouts from Super Mutants.

Jane glanced around. "Well…I need to take this dish down the road. But…" She sighed. "It's late. Let's just head back to Underworld for now. Do you mind?" She turned to him again, and he shook his head. Not like he could argue even if he did mind. Jane noticed the subway tunnel in front of them and they made their way through it, instead of trying the trenches of the mall again. They emerged next to Underworld and Willow.

"Back so soon?" The female ghoul mused and Jane grinned sheepishly.

Inside, Winthrop stopped them. "Hey. Did you…buy Charon's contract?"

"Well, yeah!" Jane smiled at the engineer. He sighed. "Is that….is that a bad thing?" Jane glanced back at Charon, who returned her stare solemnly. "I figured I could use him as a bodyguard of sorts. To help me out around the Wasteland."

"I see." Winthrop nodded. "Well, nothing really attacks Underworld anymore. Just the occasional Slaver or Raider. Cerebus can take care of 'em. It's not like Deathclaws come wandering down here or anything."

Jane looked lost for a moment, glancing at Charon and then back at Winthrop. "Deathclaw?" She frowned. "What's a Deathclaw?"

Charon almost rolled his eyes. Winthrop smiled timidly, obviously feeling sorry for the girl. "You honestly don't know what a Deathclaw is?"

Jane bit her lip and shook her head. "No…come on, take pity on me. I haven't been out in the Wasteland long."

"What, were you born in a vault or something?" Winthrop did roll his eyes. "Deathclaws…well, I'm not sure how to describe them. They're very tall, with really long claws. They're fast, and…well. They'll kill you pretty damn quick."

Jane blinked. "They don't sound so bad."

"That's what you say now."

* * *

Jane bought a room at Carol's and ended up apologizing profusely to Charon about how they would have to share a room. Carol simply didn't have enough beds available for both of them.

Jane opened the stall door to their room and stepped inside. Dogmeat instantly hopped on the bed, turned around in a circle a few times, then plopped down and let out a snuff. "Well, it's a pretty big bed. We could share!" She smiled at Charon, but he shook his head. She frowned. "Don't you want to sleep?" Another shake of the head. "Are…are you sure? Tomorrow, we have to make our way to Galaxy News Radio. When I was there a few days ago, the place was surrounded by a bunch of Super Mutants. It was a pretty big fight. You'll need some rest."

Charon wanted to punch her in the face. He heard someone on the other side of the dividers giggling. Obviously, it was someone who knew that he didn't sleep. The fact that the girl was pushing it on him so hard really aggravated him.

"I don't sleep much, Miss." He answered her pleading eyes. She did that annoying thing again, where she bit her lip and frowned and looked ridiculous all at once.

"I see." She closed the door to the makeshift bedroom behind them. It didn't offer much privacy, the hospital screens set up towards the front were dirty, but they were sheer. The people outside the room, enjoying their dinner, could easily look inside. So could Crowley, that fucking slime, who sat on his permanently rented bed just ten feet away.

"You don't have to call me 'miss'." She said unexpectedly, her lip biting turning into a smile. "Just call me Jane." She pulled off her motorcycle goggles and tossed them onto the bed. She pulled off her large, spiked shoulder pads, but stopped there. She collapsed onto the bed, tossing her weapons and bags of caps and chems to one side. She left her shoes and armor on. "If you change your mind and want to sleep, just shove me or Dogmeat over."

And with that, she was asleep. Charon leaned against the wall of the hotel room and watched whatever interested him the most- Dogmeat kicking one leg in his sleep, Jane snorting to herself, Greta cleaning the tables outside the room, Crowley bitching about smoothskins. Watching the girl wasn't his number one priority. As much as he disliked Underworld, as sick of it as he was, they were safe here. He didn't have to watch for radscorpions or raiders. He didn't have to keep his employer safe here.

But she had said they would be traveling to Galaxy News the next day. Wasn't that the place where that DJ was holed up? Three Dog? What business did she have with him? Was she going to turn over that dish to him, or was she going to do something else with it?

And for that matter, what did she even need him for? In front of Ahzrukhal, she had been cool and collected. She could obviously use a gun. She might have been a little dense and excitable, but she seemed to be able to handle herself. She had fought off those Super Mutants, and was quick on her feet. If only her mind were as quick, though. Maybe she realized that and it was the reason his contract had been purchased.

A quick jazz beat played in the back of Carol's Place. The ghouls outside finished eating and left. Crowley seemed to have finally shut up and Greta and Carol had retreated to their bed. Finally. Some peace.

Jane Green, Charon's new employer, rolled over in her sleep. Charon crossed his arms across his chest and laid his chin on his collarbone. His shotgun dug into his back, but he was used to it. The feeling of it on his spine and his left shoulder blade was somehow comforting. It meant safety. It was like massage therapy for him. He closed his eyes.

* * *

Jane seemed to like to walk in front of him, Charon noticed. She didn't completely ignore him, though. Every so often, she would turn around and get that stupid smile on face, then whip back around and swing her arms from her sides like an idiot. Dogmeat, the mutt she seemed to be so attached to, would dart around corners and into metro stations before they had a chance to investigate at all. He was as dumb as his owner.

As for the goddamn dish that they had retrieved at the Museum of Technology, Jane had wandered down the Mall's dilapidating streets and waltzed right into the Washington Monument. The Brotherhood of Steel Knights stationed outside had turned their heads to watch Charon as they entered, but he had chosen to ignore them. Bigots.

The girl had taken the elevator up the monument, all the while holding the holes in the wall, oohing and awing at the sight of the Mall below them. She had jumped excitedly, causing the entire structure to shake. She had stumbled from the vibration and Charon had caught her before she smacked her head against the elevator doors. That had made her giggle in this weird high-pitched way and turn bright red. Women.

Jane had installed the dish on a large computer that Charon wouldn't have been able to make heads or tails of. Then back down the elevator they had gone, and out of the mall they had walked.

Now they were in a large square, surrounded by buildings and dilapidated cars. Just a few minutes before, they had fought off a good number of Super Mutants. Just like Jane had predicted. Dammit. Jane seemed to skip along the street and the dog trotted along behind her. Charon followed behind as slowly as he seemed fit. He kind of hopped that Jane would round a corner, not look behind her to see if he was there, and he could make a break for it. Not like he could. But dammit he could think about it.

"We're almost there!" Jane turned and grinned at him again.

Well goddammit. Hopefully this wouldn't be a repeat of the Museum of Technology. As they came out of the old building, in front of them sat a large building surrounded by Brotherhood and a…was that a dead Super Mutant Behemoth?

But they were here. GNR. Charon was just happy that the girl would have someone else to yap at.

* * *

Again, not happy with this chapter. I feel like each chapter is worse than the last. I suck. But I felt like I've kept you guys waiting long enough.  
Who's got New Vegas and beaten it yet? I've beaten it twice, which, sufficed to say, is the reason I'm not updating as often as I should be. But I've started on a New Vegas fic and it'll be up soon, if you're interested. I also kind of want to write a humorous "Courier meets Lone Wanderer" fic but I'm not sure how to go about it. Anyway. I'm going to say it outright: Don't expect Chapter 6 anytime soon. I am a lazykins and my inspiration for this fic has kind of gone down the toilet. I'll try as hard as I can to get the new chap. out soon, but no promises.


End file.
